Temper, Temper.
by miseria
Summary: A short story about Trunks. Contains swearing. Unfinshed, and likely to remain so.
1. Ch. 1

Body 

Disclaimer: In case you're confused: they don't belong to me. 

// denotes thoughts //

Temper, Temper. 

// It's not fair. // 

// It's not my fault. // 

// I'm a Saiyan // 

// Blame genetics // 

// Blame my father. // 

Trunks sat sprawled in a chair outside the Headmasters' office, studying the cracks in the floor. He was going over the events leading up to his current situation, trying to come up with some sort of reasonable excuse. So far, he only had some unreasonable ones. Somehow, he didn't think that "He asked for it" was a valid excuse for breaking someone's jaw, however true it was. 

// But it _is_ true, he did ask for it. // 

_He _was Tom Asoken, some moron who'd heard a rumour about his strength two months ago, and decided that it would be a fun game to tease Trunks into losing his temper, to see how strong he really was. 

// Asshole. // 

Trunks rolled his head back to stretch his muscles before looking down at his watch. He'd been sitting there for half an hour, listening the sounds of an hysterical Mrs Asoken drift through the door. 

// Man, I'm glad that's not my mother. // 

Trunks felt a familiar ache inside, even after all these years he still missed her, though he was too young when she died to remember her clearly. He was pretty sure that his dad missed her. Maybe. 

Suddenly, a nagging thought reared its' ugly head in Trunks' mind: 

// Shit, what if they phone home! // 

// What if Dad's in! // 

Trunks vividly remembered the first, and only time, school had phoned home to inform his father of his latest temper tantrum. Man, did they regret inviting Vejiita into school. It was almost worth the beating he'd got when they arrived home. Almost. 

As these thoughts were passing through Trunks' head, Mrs Asoken had walked smartly out of the Heads' office, tight lipped and frowning, and had proceeded down the corridor, without even a glance in Trunks' direction. As she turned the corner she nearly walked into a short, surly looking man, who growled in responce to her mumbled apology. 

Back down the corridor, Trunks' head shot up, as he recognised the approaching chi. 

// Fuck!! // 

He bowed his head forward, staring sightlessly at the floor, trying to rack his brains for a good excuse. He stayed like that even when a pair of scruffy black boots entered his field of vision. 

// At least he didn't come in his armour this time // 

He could feel his fathers gaze burning into the back of his neck, and he raised his head slowly, until he was looking at him. 

"It looks like you have inherited my temper, brat." 

Vejiita raised an eyebrow and smirked. 

// Maybe he's not going to kill me after all // thought Trunks, as he followed his unpredictable father out the door. 

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I usually write Buffy fanfic, so any pointers on this would be appreciated. If I get some positive reviews, then I might add another chapter or two. Thanks. 


	2. Ch. 2

Disclaimer: No, I haven't suddenly mutated into Akira Toriyama, and they still don't belong to me. 

Ch. 2

They flew in silence: they always did. Trunks could rarely think of anything to say to his taciturn father. Not that he ever got a reply. Anyway, he still wasn't sure whether he was in trouble or not. He'd been so sure that Vejiita would go ape-shit that the sight of his familiar smirk had completely thrown him. But, then again, he really didn't know his father well enough to predict his behaviour. No-one did, really, not even Goku. 

Trunks risked a glance at his father: he looked pissed off - but that was nothing new. 

They where nearing Capsule Corporation by now, where they still lived, despite his mother's death, at his grandparents insistence. 

//It's not fair// 

Trunks was aware that this was the second time in one day that his thoughts had followed this path. 

//My dad looses his temper on a regular basis, sometimes with spectacular results, I'm _his_ son, no matter how hard he tries to ignore the fact, what the hell am I supposed to do!?// 

Trunks tensed his muscles as he landed outside Capsule Corporation, apprehension filling him as he followed his father inside. 

//Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit........// 

He was too wrapped up in his thoughts to notice that his father had come to a stop and now stood, arms folded, in the kitchen doorway. 

"What happened this time, brat?" 

"I....I lost my temper." 

"Huh. No shit." 

Trunks scowled at his father's sarcasm. 

"What the fuck do _you_ care anyway? Why don't you just punish me and get it over with, so you can go back to your training." 

//Bastard. Don't pretend you care - you never try to understand my reasons for anything, why start now?// 

Trunks watched carefully for his father's reaction, ready to dodge an attack, but instead of lashing out, he could see his father fighting for control of his temper. 

He found himself caught in Vejiita's black gaze for long moments. 

"Just don't turn out like me, boy." 

He answered, quietly, before he turned and walked away. 

Trunks stared in shock at his father's retreating back. 

//Now what the fuck was _that_ all about?// 

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Now, when I wrote the note at the end of the first chapter, saying that I would add another chapter or two if I got good reviews, I'm pretty sure that I had some clue about where I was going to take the story next (I don't write long stories - there's probably for a good reason for this). However, I seem to have forgotten whatever it is that I was going to write - so suggestions, reviews, and sycophantic flattery are all very much welcome. Thanks, Miseria. 


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